


In the Shadows

by thecanadiananimagus



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Healer Hermione Granger, Muggle Ron Weasley, Smut, Witch Trials
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-12 00:20:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29376276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecanadiananimagus/pseuds/thecanadiananimagus
Summary: Desperate to find a cure to his mother's illness, Ron stumbles upon a cottage in the woods. At first, the sole inhabitant appears to be harmless, but as Ron soon realizes, once he's there, he may never be allowed to leave.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 6
Kudos: 16





	In the Shadows

A person isn’t supposed to forget how to breathe.

But why was Ron gasping for air, his lungs growing tighter in his chest?

He watched as the physician stepped out from his parents’ room, closing the door behind him and stepping away before he removed his mask. The Weasley children swarmed him immediately, but none of them spoke a word, not even a whisper.

“She’s too far gone.”

Ginny threw herself into Bill’s arms, her tears dripping on his cloak. He kissed her forehead, placing an arm around her to help put the shaking to a stop.

“How long does she have?” Charlie pulled him to the side, looking over his shoulder to make sure Ron and Ginny couldn’t hear them. Ron only saw their lips move, but his brother’s eyes became wet.

He said nothing else and held out his hand expectantly. Charlie rummaged through his pockets and came up with a small bag tied up at the top. The physician shook it slightly, barely hearing the jingle inside, departing with a huff.

Ron heard his mother stir inside her room; another sleepless night ahead of her.

The rest of the village were slumbering at this point, unbothered as the rain poured down on their homes. A sudden flash of lightning and a roar of thunder caused the children to jump, but it was over just as quickly as it had come.

Ron looked over at Harry who had just passed the physician on his way up the stairs. He saw Ginny first; his question answered even before it left his lips.

Harry came over silently and took her by the hand. At his touch Ginny let go of Bill and latched herself onto Harry, her breath already starting to ease. Ron and Harry nodded at each other, and he left his best friend and siblings behind.

Ron didn’t make it halfway down the stairs before he started crying, panting as he ran his hands down his face then up into his hair. He looked towards the window, just able to see his reflection. Ron’s skin was far more pale than usual, making his freckles stand out even more. His flaming red hair in disarray.

Drying his eyes, he noticed his father sitting at his desk. Arthur’s head was bowed with his eyes closed, hands folded together as he muttered a prayer under his breath.

Ron knew better than to interrupt a priest in the middle of talking to God; especially one under as much stress as his father.

He couldn’t read the papers scattered across his desk, but Ron didn’t have to be able to read them to know what they were about. More letters, more accusations, more women to be burned at the stake.

“Save my wife.” Arthur too started to cry, unaware that Ron was mere feet away from him. “Please, God, save my wife.”

Ron had never seen his father cry. All throughout his mothers illness he never cried; but perhaps he did when he wasn’t with his children.

Ron felt his chest tighten again, and he ran outside into the rain. In seconds he was soaked through his cloak, but Ron didn’t care; he barely felt it. Everything just seemed numb. His limbs moved, but they felt hollow. He breathed, but felt no air in his lungs. Ron simply walked aimlessly down the road, not even looking for a place to stay dry.

“He was not able to help your mother.” a voice came through the rain.

Dumbledore always struck Ron as a very odd man, even though his mother and father showed great respect towards him. Very little was known about Dumbledore, but the consensus was he had to be very old. No villager could remember a day when he wasn’t there.

Ron stopped and turned to him. With a simple gesture, he found himself standing inside the barn with Dumbledore, not sure why he came there. Ron couldn’t even remember walking towards him.

“She’s... she’s...” Ron knew what he wanted to say, but couldn’t bring himself to do so.

Dumbledore only gave Ron a smile, the familiar twinkle in his eyes.

“No one is gone until they are.” Dumbledore said, heading deeper into the barn, retreating into the darkness. When he emerged, he was leading a horse with on hand and carrying a piece of parchment with the other. “The map will take you where you need to go.”

Both the reins and the parchment were forced into his hands.

“A cure?” Ron asked quickly, but Dumbledore held up his hands and spoke calmly.

“Someone who can give you a cure - I hope. Now go. Time is not on your side.”

***

The lamp in Ron’s hand was starting to fade, the view of the map and the path along with it.

Even as the storm grew stronger, Ron didn’t stop moving. He had to keep going for the sake of his mother. Somewhere out there was the person he needed.

The horse stopped suddenly, her tail swishing as she raised her head. Ron give her a slight nudge with his boot, but she refused to move; almost as if she was frozen.

“Come on.” he nudged her again, this time a bit harder.

It came clear through the storm; Ron’s blood turning cold. A howl from a distance, and it was only coming closer.

“We need to get out of here.” Ron said, gasping as a twig snapped. He heard them again, surrounding them, growling.

Ron couldn’t see how many there we. Where they were remained a mystery; the beasts appearing as shadows, but disappearing the moment he blinked.

That’s when he felt it; the bark coming from behind him, too slow to react. The wolf caught Ron by his hanging leg, sinking its teeth into the skin until he reached the bone. Ron cried out, but could do nothing to stop himself from being pulled off the saddle.

He still couldn’t see, reaching aimlessly from the roots on the ground. They slipped through his fingers like ghosts as he was dragged towards the rest of the pack.

Ron mustered what strength he could to roll over onto his back and kick the wolf off of him, causing it to whimper, finally setting him free. He tried to stand and run, but the second he put weight on his leg, he fell once more.

Out of nowhere a flash of red came, blinding Ron. More whimpers came from the wolves as they retreated, and the last thing he saw before he blacked out was a small hand reaching for him.

***

When Ron awoke, he did not open his eyes. It was the kind of slumber he never wanted to leave, but no matter how much he wanted to return to it, he couldn’t.

The bed he was in was not his own.

Ron opened his eyes, staring up at the wooden ceiling. Even though he was unable to move his neck - or the rest of his body - to take in his surroundings,

Ron knew he wasn’t alone. He could hear a woman humming in the background, rummaging through the cupboards and placing objects on the counter. Ron inhaled; her perfume sending a reeling sensation throughout his body.

The woman came over to him and Ron closed his eyes, pretending to be asleep.

She reached a hand out, placing it on his chest. Freezing to the touch, Ron would have flinched if he could. There, Ron came to the realization he wasn’t wearing any of his clothes.

The stranger moved her hand away and replaced it with her ear, listening to his heartbeat a bit closer. Ron felt his pulse quicken, her locks tickling him. He opened his lips to laugh, but no sound came out.

She didn’t stop humming, not noticing that he was awake.

The woman pulled away briefly to grab something, pressing what felt like a bowl against his lips, a warm liquid pouring down his throat.

Ron shot up like a man possessed, the woman dropping the bowl to the ground and backing away from him.

He set his eyes on her, and she let out a squeak.

The woman didn’t appear to be old. After taking her in for a few moments, Ron would have guessed she was about his age.

But that seemed the only thing they had in common - at least with appearances.

Ron was lanky and freckled, while the woman - no, the girl - was short, bushy brown hair flowing down her back and past her shoulders. Her cheeks had turned red, matching her velvet dress in shade.

Neither tried to say the first word. Ron swung his legs off the bed and stood to his feet, and she backed away further.

Ron stopped suddenly, looking down at his leg. How was he able to stand? More importantly, how was his leg completely healed? There was a scar left behind, the distinct teeth marks from a wolf left behind on his leg, but other than that, there was no sign of an injury.

“You have dirt on your nose.” she said, rubbing the spot on her face. Her eyes darted down briefly, her face growing an even darker shade of red. “I - I was going to wash it for you.”

Ron ignored this, hands moving to cover himself.

The woman hurried to grab the pair of trousers that were hanging by the fireplace. She tossed them over to Ron who put them on immediately.

“Where am I?”

“My home.” she stated, much less distracted now. She held out the map in her hands, pointing to a spot. “You were looking for me.”

Ron rushed towards her, but came to a stop when he saw her jump.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” he held up his hands carefully. “Dumbledore said you could help my mother. You’ve heard of Dumbledore, haven’t you?”

Her shoulders relaxed, and she let out a breath she’d been holding.

“He used to teach me.” she nodded, holding out her hand. “I’m Hermione. Hermione Granger.”

Reluctantly he reached out, pressing a light kiss to the back of her hand.

“Ron Weasley.” He felt his ear turn pink and he let go. “Are you a doctor?”

Hermione picked up the bowl, turning away and placing it back in its original place. With her dress covering her feet, Ron could have sworn she was floating across the floor.

“Have you ever met a woman who was a doctor?”

Ron shook his head.

“I do not have any formal medical training. But if the doctor in your village was any help to your mother, would you have come looking for me?”

“I suppose not.” he muttered, pulling his undershirt back on.

Hermione eyed him from afar, playing with her moon-shaped necklace.

“When did your mother become sick?”

Ron cleared the lump in his throat and answered. “Six months. Just after the trials started. When the doctor couldn’t figure out what was wrong with her, he figured she’d been cursed. Load of rubbish.”

She froze for a moment and looked away.

“Rubbish... yes, of course it’s all rubbish.” Hermione smoothed out her dress before she placed her hands on her hips. “So, you don’t know what’s wrong with her.”

Ron shook his head for a second time.

Hermione moved towards the fireplace, pulling off the lid from the pot hanging over it. She used the lid to fan the smoke away, coughing.

“You need to eat.” she said, taking two bowls and filling them with soup. “I’m afraid I’m not much of a cook, but I hope it will satisfy.”

“I didn’t come here for food.” Ron stood his ground, looking down on her. “Can you give me a cure or not?”

“You didn’t come here to get attacked by wolves, but life doesn’t always go according to plan.” Hermione pulled out two chairs, sitting down at the table.

Ron let out a huff and sat beside her, taking the bowl in his hands.

“How long have I been here?” he asked, taking a large gulp.

Hermione, meanwhile, set a napkin on her lap and used a spoon.

“Not long. Only a few hours.”

“And you were able to heal my leg.” Ron tensed his muscles under the table, still appearing to have nothing wrong with it. “How?”

She touched the top of her lip and this time he mirrored her, wiping his mouth with his sleeve.

“Nothing special. All it took were a few herbs - all grown in my garden. I believe there are a few that can help cure your mother. Come, follow me.”

Hermione raised up from her chair, floating across the room and heading out the door with Ron hurrying after her.

The storm was still going, but he didn’t care. Neither did she, it seemed. Hermione kneeled down, mud splashing across her red velvet dress. She dug her hands into the ground, getting dirt under her nails as she began to collect some of the plants.

They didn’t appear to be very special. If Ron simply passed them in the woods he wouldn’t have given them a second glance.

“I haven’t got any coin.” he said, following her back inside the cottage. Hermione placed the plants on the table and picked up the pot, tossing the soup outside. “How am I to repay you?”

“I accept several form of payment.” Hermione refilled the pot with water, the plants as well as other spices joining it.

“I’ll give you whatever you ask” Ron joined her by the fire, hoping to make his clothes a bit more dry. “What are your demands?”

“Your silence, for starters.” Hermione placed one last plant in the pot before she closed the lid, departing from Ron.

“Where are you going?”

She looked over her shoulder, making her way towards the other room.

“Where do you think?” Hermione asked, gesturing to her soaking wet, mud stained dress. “Keep the fire going, would you?’

And with that, she disappeared behind the door, leaving Ron by himself.

Sighing, he pulled his shirt over his head, hanging it in its original place so it could dry faster.

Saving him from the wolves, healing his mangled leg in the span of a few hours, none of that made sense. It shouldn’t have been possible.

And where were her parents in all of this? What kind of girl lived alone?

Shelves of books lined the walls of Hermione’s cottage, all of them squeezed in or else they wouldn’t have been able to fit. In every direction Ron looked, he found more books scattered about, some of them open, others sealed shut with a lock.

Ron couldn’t see much else; the only source of light being the fireplace and melted candles, the scent of which making Ron want to sit down.

He hovered over the mantle for a moment before his legs wouldn’t allow him to do so. As if his actions were out of his control, Ron returned to the bed he woke up on.

“Are you all right?”

Ron sprang to his feet when Hermione appeared right beside him. He didn’t notice her return at all, never hearing the door open.

Hermione had changed into a nightgown, her face barely illuminated by the nearby candles.

“I didn’t frighten you, did I?” she asked, sitting down on the bed and patting the spot next to her.

Ron went back down and brushed her leg with his knee, thinking to himself _‘good to know she’s got legs under there’._

“Why would I be frightened of you?”

Hermione leaned forward, blowing out the candle. At that moment, the other candles extinguished themselves, and the fire Ron never attended went out.


End file.
